


Yuki

by IntrovertedWriter



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 3rd person pov, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Feels, Ficlet, Fluff, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, No Beta, Oneshot, Sappy as fuck, Schmoop, Stand Alone, Supernatural! Yuuri, VictUuri, Yuki-Onna - Freeform, a bit OOC, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntrovertedWriter/pseuds/IntrovertedWriter
Summary: Victor Nikiforov was not a stranger to being loved. Not at all. But he was a stranger to loving.There was only one recipient deemed by him as capable of ever beginning to grasp such a thing. The ice.  No one questioned that, and neither did he. Until he met him. AU with slight fantasy here and there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was something that I wrote as part of a fanzine fo sorts for the series. I hope you like it since this is my first time writing for this fandom and characters (despite how much I love them). I wanted to include some aspects from either Russian or Japanese folklore/storytelling and when I came upon the story of the yuki-onna, a snow spirit who although killed those she came upon spared and fell in love with a young man, I wanted to play with it. Let me know your thoughts in the comments bellow. So long as they are constructive and not vicious, they are all welcome. I actually really need them.

To everyone that laid their eyes on him, the young man had to be the epitome of beauty and innocence. They simply found no other words for such an ethereal being. Hair so fair it fell in silver locks that people could only describe as moonbeams. Eyes with the hue of the most profound depths of the ocean yet reflecting the obliviousness only possessed by a child. And his skin…It was so pale it resembled the finest and most fragile porcelain. It seemed as if any second it might crack, not unlike the ice he loved to skate in.  


Despite his age, there were many things Victor Nikiforov had yet to discover, many of them aspects of that which surrounded him. Had yet to discover many of the pieces that made up his world as he knew it. Things that were unknown to his curious gaze and questioning voice. Things more complex than an answer taking shape into a yes or a no. However, for all of these things unknown to him, he found that the adoring gazes of the townspeople were never amongst these. He was no stranger to being loved. Not at all. But he was a stranger to loving. The townspeople, the very same who spoke of the man’s charisma, talent, and beauty…they were the same ones who often wondered if this childlike state of innocence, of obliviousness to what surrounded him came from his detachment from emotions such as love. Though most were sure that the young skater had never cared enough for anyone for the emotion to be labeled as love, one thing was certain. There was only one recipient deemed by the young skater as capable of ever grasping such a thing. The ice.  


It was something indisputable to all who had ever watched his slim figure as his limbs moved in tender, graceful movements that pushed him forward. Their relationship, the one of the ice and the boy was a unique one albeit one based off such a great awe that it might as well have been akin to love. Love for the feeling of his skates scraping the ice, leaving tiny ice shavings behind. Love for the way his body felt cold and warm all at once. And amongst all, love for the way the ice didn’t only let him flourish within it, but become part of it. He belonged in the ice, and nobody questioned it. Didn’t question that the closest he’d get to knowing what it was to love was the ice beneath his feet. To be fair, he didn’t, either. Never had. Until one day, he did.  


That day, the ice refused him. It did not yield to him, did not yield to his usual fluid movements. Did not allow him to become an extension of it the way it had always seemed to. The air was unusually cold, rapidly seeping into his lungs and making it harder to breathe. Not to mention, around him, snow fell from the sky at an uncanny speed. Snowflake after snowflake landed on cheeks and he could not help but let an exasperated sigh. Nevertheless, he kept moving, but to no avail. It wasn’t the same. There was no logical explanation for it, but it didn’t matter to Victor. He kept going. His blades kept digging into the ice as he moved along its surface. But there was a nagging unease to all of it. It wasn’t until he dare attempt to jump and was met with the cold, firm surface of it that he let the words take shape in his mouth.  
  


"Shit!" 

Not a few moments later, his skates cut through the ice once again, but unlike all the other times they glided through it gracefully, this time, chunks of ice flew into the air as Victor kicked into it. Around him, the snow kept falling more freely with each passing minute, as if it had no hesitation nor inhibitions to stop it. Victor didn’t even have to think twice to figure out what this could mean. A storm. He had to walk back to the town before it caught up to him. As much as he hated to leave without having dominated that which he’d set out to do, peeling off the skates from his feet and replacing them with boots, he left for the town.  
The woods, very much like the ice, were ruthless this day. The very wind which would caress the young lad's cheeks was now blowing hard on his face, blowing away his silver tresses of hair into disarray. Snow continued to fall harshly on him and upon the very path he traveled. In his stubbornness, he had clearly overseen this, he thought, peering through squinting eyes. He really had. His right hand grasped his cherished skates, whilst the other held his parka closed. It would do him no good to get sick in this weather, although at the moment his health didn't exactly seem like a pressing issue. He'd be content if he could just get to the warmth and security of his home at this point. Alas, it was not to be. Through cerulean eyes, his eyes caught something ahead of him, where he guessed the path should have been. A man. Not an ordinary man, though. He could tell this. Somehow, there was something that separated the two...He was beautiful, but unlike the claims of the townspeople, this man truly possessed an ethereal beauty. The clothes he wore were so white that had he not been he not been as observant as he was, he might have confused it for the snow which surrounded him. His skin was of a similar quality, too. Though his hair and eyes...they were dark. For the first time, Victor felt inadequate in front of someone else, for this man standing before him...Victor felt that he saw through him. Saw through the beauty and the charisma...and saw the man. The man was quick to catch his gaze, and though his eyes were a warm brown, he couldn't help but think that such a color had never seemed so cold. Still, he masked such thoughts as he always did, with a charming smile. However, it was quickly eased off his face as the pieces came together. An apparition in the snow. The greeting that had been about to take shape on his lips was replaced.  


"Are you a demon or an envoy of winter?" he asked. The man let out a soft snort.  


"Would you believe me if I told you any differently?" 

His voice was soft, it resembled the dulcet tunes the birds would sing in the spring. But unlike them, his voice held a firmness to it that demanded to be listened to. Victor wondered if anyone had overlooked him before. He couldn't picture such a thing, however.  
"Perhaps," he said with a small smile. He was not to give him any sign of his nervousness. He knew as much. He was regarded with a look of intrigue as the man's dark eyes settled on him.  


"So," Victor drawled, "Are you to erase me from this world with ease?"

This time, he was rewarded with the tiniest of tilts taking form in the man's mouth. A smile, you could say. A shy one.  


"I thought I was going to kill you, same as everyone to have crossed my path. But I will not, because you are beautiful and young...You've much left to gain of this life," he conceded, "However. You must not tell anyone of our meeting today. Otherwise, I'll kill you." Victor gave a quick nod and flashed him yet another smile.  


"Fully noted."  
And with that, his clothes blended into the snow, and just as soon as he had appeared, he vanished, leaving Victor alone to find his way back.  


He was someone that was hard to forget. Yuuri knew that all too well. But if anything was to be more unforgettable than the man, it was the decision he had made involving him. What had made him so different from all the others whom he had encountered in these very woods? Men with much more than him had stumbled into his woods all too often. Unlike them, this one didn’t pose any sort of benefit to him. He didn’t plead for his life with desperate promises. Promises of riches, of adoration, they all seemed lost to him. So why had he spared him? Though even he was not oblivious to his beauty, he had seen younger men that could be considered just as fair as he, if not more. But Yuuri knew. He stupidly wondered about an answer only he possessed. He had spared him because of his eyes. Framed by the silver locks at the sides of his head, his eyes weren't filled with unshed tears of regret that came with knowing that they'd never experience that which made their life worthwhile ever again. They were devoid of that. They might be the same blue of the depth of the ocean, but they didn’t reflect the human experience that the rest did. Instead, they reflected obliviousness to it. Obliviousness to the human experiences that made life worthwhile. Love, amongst them. For what could be more of a human experience than love? It was beyond an experience, it was a necessity. There was one true happiness in this life, to love and to be loved. He had no doubt that the man knew the former all too well, but he was foreign to the later. Humans were born alone, they lived alone, and most importantly, they died alone. But loving someone deeply, it created the temporary illusion that, perhaps, for that one moment, they weren’t. Could he ever let someone go into their next life without having lived the first? He couldn’t. Regret might be but another fickle human emotion, but, it was something that Yuuri knew he couldn’t bear to feel burning at the back of his mind as he drained the life out of him. As he became the one to deny him of such a thing. So he made sure he didn’t. He wouldn’t. In fact, he would make sure that when his time came, he, too could see his life splayed out before his eyes so that his blue eyes could be filled with tears. Not tears of empty regret, as devoid of meaning as devoid of human experience but tears that held everything worthwhile in his life as he bid them farewell. A chance that he had never gotten.  


The murmurs around town that once had all pointed to Victor Nikiforov now had a new owner. Katsuki Yuuri. The young man had recently become part of their small town, and since his arrival, rumors about him spread like wildfire. This was surprising to some since there was nothing too noteworthy of the young man at first sight. Unlike Victor, he seemed quiet and easily embarrassed, although his kindness more than made up for it. In addition, he was a humble man who always seemed to underestimate himself, something that seemed to make him all the more endearing to others. Victor himself had not seen much of him, only brief glimpses in passing. Though he had to admit there was something about Yuuri, he was too busy to let himself figure out why. He had always recurred to the ice as an outlet for everything, from unsettled thoughts to unsettled feelings. Even in the later part of the winter, this intensified. He could brush off unsettled thoughts, sometimes even unsettled feelings. But what Victor found he couldn't brush off was that day...the day of the ruthless ice, the ruthless woods and most importantly, the man in the snow. Those dark eyes...they were like the deepest abyss and he couldn't help but wonder what lay at the bottom of it. It was unlikely that he'd find out, but he still tried to find the answer within the ice. Pft, the thought. A young man with skates on his hands was looking for answers. Everything else came after. That is not to say he wasn't surprised upon finding Yuuri in his skating spot. He cocked an eyebrow at him but said nothing.  


"I just um...wanted to get away for a bit. I'll go if I am bothering you but...It's a bit overwhelming out there. I don't think I quite live up to what they envisioned," he said nervously.  


"No one likely ever will," Victor couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm Victor Nikiforov. I don't suppose you are the one Katsuki Yuuri everybody's been talking about?"  


He gave a curt nod, "I'm afraid so."

Victor looked at him curiously, "Well, feel free to stay if you want, but there's not much to do out here..."  


"Then what did you come here for?"  


"Skating."  


"I see..."  


"Like I said, you're welcome to stand by but there's not much to do."  


"I think I'll take my chances."

And he did. Victor could feel his warm gaze as he moved about the ice. He could feel it trailing from the blades of his skates to his mop of hair as it strayed from his face. It followed him. But there was something else to it...a different feel to it. Awe. His gaze was one of unimaginable awe…as if he was afraid of breaking away his gaze to discover he’d missed something. His skating…it was full of unimaginable surprises. It was spontaneous. He skated as if he didn’t know what he was doing himself until he did. One could not help but watch his every move…watch how every curve of his body gave shape to a new movement. He was so enthralled that he finally understood why this boy was once the subject of the town’s affection. He was disappointed to see it come to an end. He must’ve frowned because he was met with a smug smirk from Victor as he took off his skates and replaced them with snow boots. He looked up from the ground, lifting his head a little.  


“You really did stick around, huh? I didn’t expect that,” he said.  


“Hm? Ah, yes…um, it was cool to watch.”  


“Really?”  


“Yeah.”  


“Maybe next time you can skate, too,” he suggested. He had to admit he could feel himself getting excited at the prospect. He had come to the ice for answers, and though they might not be the ones he’d been looking for, maybe he’d get an answer as to what made Yuuri so different.  


“I can’t.”  


“Why?” Victor furrowed his eyebrows, “Do you not want to spend time with me?” He couldn’t help but let a bit of hurt seep into his voice, hopes sinking rapidly.  


“No, no, no! It’s not that…” Yuuri attempted to convince him desperately, shaking his head while he spoke.  


“Then what is it?”  


“Idon’tknowhowtoskate”  


“Huh?”  


“I said I don’t know how to skate.”  


"Oh," Victor tried not to sound surprised," I can always teach you, you know."  
In return, he got a shy smile and this dancing look in Yuuri's brown eyes. It was a blend that Victor could not quite decipher. He could see traces of excitement in the specks of color of his eyes. But he could also see something behind that. Was it joy? Admiration? Attraction?  


"I think...I'll have to take you up on that."  
Victor did not know. But he intended to find out.  


The beginning of their relationship might have been labeled as conventional, but their relationship itself...It was not. The cold days that follow after that one, very much like the day of the man in the snow, changed his life in irrevocable ways. The routine that had been established long ago was broken. The silence that was customary of his walks to the frozen lake where he liked to skate? Broken. Broken by the sound of soft laughter and conversation shared between the two. Victor gliding through the ice effortlessly, becoming an extension of it? It was no more. Instead, he held a struggling man in his arms so that he would not fall. But he did not mind. He could be separate from the ice. But he could not be separate from him, he soon found. He didn’t mind Yuuri clutching him in the cold for stability. He did not mind the feel of his body close to his, of his warmth. He reveled in these moments.Though Yuuri would apologize profusely and stutter, but Victor would assure him that it was okay. And it really was. More than okay. It seemed that he couldn't gain answers to what made Yuuri Katsuki so different but instead gained more questions. These were not of the same nature. They weren't as complex. But they seemed to hold more weight to Victor than anything ever had. When was Yuuri's birthday? What was his favorite color? Favorite food? Was he happy? What made him happy? Would he stay? And most importantly, would he stay with him? These were questions that only he could answer. But Victor didn't dare ask. Because as much as he wanted to know the answers, he was terrified of them as well. He shivered at the thought. With the ease the blades of his skate had once carved their way into the ice, with the ease Yuuri had entered his life...He could be gone. He shivered at the thought as he tied his skates. Suddenly, he felt a curious finger prod his head. Yuuri. 

"Victor, is anything the matter? Are you cold?" he asked, his voice giving away his concern. This, too, was surprising. With the same ease...he could see right through him.  


"No, it's really nothing," he tried to reassure him. But Yuuri still looked at him with the same concerned glance before nodding.  


"Alright.”  


"Alright...so, we need to get you to the ice, don't you think?" he smiled at him because, how could he not?  


"I'll just keep falling on my ass," he muttered as a bright red blush covered his face. His eyes looked down at his skates and the ice that lay beneath them.  


"Hey, cheer up," Victor said, "After all, you have me as a coach." He winked. "That I do." "But even then, you'd do fine if you only did the one thing that in your mind seems impossible.”  


"And what is that?”  


"Believe in yourself.”  


"Huh?”  


"You heard me. The reason why your blades don't glide through the ice the way you want them to? That's because you have to carve your path. The ice doesn't make way for you...You do. You make your way through it, deem yourself strong enough, worth enough. You carve the ice the blades of the skates go through, not the other way around.”  


"V-victor.”  


"Shh," he told him, "now some on, carve your way and make your own history, will you?”

Victor constantly tried to surprise people. But this time, there no longer was a man with raven hair and brown eyes to stare at him with awe. This time, he was the one staring at him with awe. He no longer surprised people, but rather he was surprised. His blue eyes no longer reflected the obliviousness o a child but rather, they reflected childlike joy and wonder. He watched Yuuri fall, but he also watched as he cut through the ice, making way for the blades, but most importantly, making way for himself. They were one, then. Yuuri became an extension of the ice, gliding smoothly through it. These were the things he loved, he thought. No. The ice...the recipient for all his emotion, it was futile. It was useless if he didn't have someone to make him feel them. And that someone was Yuuri. He realized then, the nature of the ignorance the townspeople had claimed him to own. When he got away from the ice, two words came to mind. Life and love. He'd been neglecting both for years. But Yuuri...Yuuri in his humility, in his caring, in himself...his life and love had taught him about a brand new world he had never known before. He'd taught him what it was to love. It was something all-encompassing, overwhelming and so, so right. He cared for someone. Cared more than he cared for himself. And with eyes wide open, he let himself fall. And he decided then that if he was going to fall, he might as well hit himself hard against the pavement. He had never made his way through the ice as fast as he did then, towards him. Towards Yuuri. He finally crashed into him, embracing him as Yuuri gave a startled jump and his eyes widened.  


"I love you."

The answers came to him then. All of them. As Yuuri's lips crashed with his and the world fell away. The world he could now see clearly, the world Yuuri had created just for him...It fell away. Instead, their lips created their own world. It was slow and comforting in ways that only love could ever be. It held the secrets of the universe. Victor pulled away and looked at Yuuri lovingly, his breath creating a small mist in the air. How ironic, Yuuri couldn't help but think at the back of his mind, that I came here with the intention of making sure this man's life was filled with love and I walked out the most loved man in this world.  


"I just remembered...It was you who I remember seeing dimly that winter day. Wasn't it?"

"You finally spoke of me..," he said grimly," I told you if you spoke of that day to anyone else that I'd have to kill you."

"Well, if that is the case, then I want to dedicate my life to you. I want to be anywhere with you."  
All-encompassing.  


"I-I can't."  
Selfish.  


"Can't what?"  
Hopeful.  


"I can't do it. You are just as beautiful as you were that day..."  
Forgiving.  


"Then take my life, but instead of killing me, teach me. Teach me how to live it every day."  
And giving. That was the purest form of the greatest affection known to man. It was agape.


End file.
